Hellraiser: Hell's Pawns
by IzzyandDesRoxSox
Summary: AU after HR3, Joey is plagued with mysterious dreams of a familiar face and a horrible future. But the supposed key to this is an innocent woman named Shana Harley. Is all what it seems? Either or, Joey must stop it or end up in the worst of all- dead.
1. Prologue: It Was Always Yours

Hellraiser: Hell's Pawns

By: Izzy

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Hey guys! It's me! I'm officially back aagin with a brand new computer that I so love truly to write my first ever serious Joey/Elliot (Jelly- a term I made up) fic. Trying to get used to a more flat buttoned keyboard is quite difficult so forgive me if there are more grammar mistakes than what I usually make. Though I assure you, I know proper English! ;)_

_By the way, for now this is a T. But later on it will become an M for sexual scenes._

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing of Hellraiser. All rights, and it's characters belong to Clive Barker. I only own my OC's and this story._

_**Full Summary:**__ AU. One year after the events of Hell on Earth, Joey finds herself plagued with mysterious dreams of a familiar face and events to come- Hell itself unleashed once again, but in a far greater matter of horror. But the supposed key to this is a innocent, broken-hearted young woman named Shana Harley. Is all truly what it seems? The risks are far worse than before, especially when it lands Joey in a place she'd least expected- dead and in the Limbo._

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><p><span>PROLOGUE<span>

Alone in the endless, brisky, chilly street night of the further regions of a wildly rowdy city, walked a single figure with eyes leering about in the mix of emotions from worry of having gone off too far, and the seemingly permanent bitter stare within this set of eyes from scars of past events.

She was beautiful. Hard to believe that most of the folks who scurried about here were filthy street rats or those ungrateful for what the world had to offer, yet here walking alone was a lovely woman. Mocha brown skin, inticing hazel eyes, a slim yet hourglass figure for hungry eyes to feast on, and smooth black shoulder length hair.

An interesting quality of appearance from her that stood alone most likely had to be the simply fact of the one long bang that would occasionaly cover her right eye, was dyed a streak of a rather bright red color- similar almost to blood sometimes. An eye-catching color worthy of attention let alone her beauty.

Ah, but the saying goes to never judge a book by it's cover.

Or, simply that appearances can be deceiving sometimes.

Not that she was cruel. She wasn't initialy sinned or damned, and certainly no fool from the street smarts and advice she carried well. But the poor being had been tossed about carelessly from the world, broken and scarred from the one too many loss of the one and only she truly, deeply loved.

Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and remembered the flowing memories that felt as long ago to grasp from.

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><p><em>"Do you promise we'll be together?" she whispered to him softly, as he engulfed her to his side, arms wrapping around her so tightly as if to never want to let go.<em>

_For the longest time they simply stared at the sunset from the angle in the bike garage before he spoke an answer, feeling as he had previously been rummaging through his pockets, gently moving her hand a bit as though slipping something on her ring finger._

_A ring, in fact- as she had looked down when he gestured her to do so. Unsure of how to react with her heart racing over the fact this was truly an engagement ring, as he chuckled, breath blowing against her hair lightly as he murmured in her ear._

_"Together forever."_

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><p>Feeling eyes water and well up yet again, she quickly rubbed them away wth her leather jacket sleeve, exhaling hastily and tiredly as her teary eyes noticed about a dimly light, unfamiliar shop.<p>

Rather in her mind to recall, there hadn't been something like one of those before. Hell, that place hadn't been there before, strangely. Though she rolled her eyes, tempted to chuckle at her foolish mind. Such supernatural ideas were of the phenomena, with always being a possibly explanation. Perhaps she had simply missed it before on her ay earlier in the afternoon, or perhaps the place had been modelled up as a store and was formerly an old apartment. Or maybe-

As if a deer with amazing senses, there had apparently been a man inside, gazing at her intently through the window with eyes widened. He seemed to clumsily exit the table he had been perched at, hands slowly letting go of whatever he seemed to possess so protectively as he officially leaned towards the window.

He hadn't said nothing, but she could feel a sudden chill in the air that made her spine shudder. Something wasn't right about this place, or this man for that matter, she could tell as though the wind were screaming in warning to run away.

Temptation is a bitch. It persisted her, waving in her mind over the fact to have better known than not ever. But what if this was something she didn't want to know or believe?

Please, there had been plenty of things she never wanted to believe in. But the world made certain to throw right in her face for the cold hard truth, to repeat it over and over.

So...what could possibly go wrong with this?

Oh, the poor child should never have made such thoughts. Perhaps by then her fate would've never be sealed in such a way. Perhaps none of the soon to come would've never come. The possibilities of 'what if' are endless.

But this was now the current present moment of the truth.

Temptation in Shana Harley's mind came through in a final blow of a mysterious, rather random blowing, icy breeze. Something said to occur in the typical slasher films before a thunderstorm follows.

Out of curiosity, Shana looked up to the dark mix of indigo and midnight black sky, twinkling with countless stars but no appearance of a moon, and found there were no clouds to be found either.

Blinking, the wind that blew once again gave an unsettling, chilling hallucenation of- what truly sounded like a whisper. An all too familiar whisper unfortunately...

_Shana.._

_Shana.._

_Shana.._

It was just nearly the same. Impossibly the same as _his._ His voice, only sounding a tad ghostly instead of a heartfelt murmur. When he would murmur her name repeatedly in his sleep after they made love, how she pretended to be asleep so she could hear him call her name just to make her heart flutter in childish joy.

And at that, Shana herself found herself within gaze as a creaky door in deseprate need of some oiling swung open politely for her to be invited inside of this dirty pawn sop, slowly approching towards the table in which the man had quickly placed himself back on the table.

Hands possessively guarding that puzzle box as though it meant for his life, making Shana willingly arch a brow in between the blurs to it all. He, this crusty, dirtied man, reminded her similarly of a guard dog in strong protection of whatever it's Master told it to guard. And in this case, it was apparently this puzzle box.

And oh, what charm it had on her as an unknown light shined on it's tainted but still glowing golden-bronze paint, the ancient, mysterious pattern marks covered about.

Her mind was to preocupied with those whispers of the wind as he hoarsely but somewhat kindly asked.

_"What is your pleasure madam?"_

Blinking her hazel eyes and licking her lips softly, Shana heaved a quick breath before glancing to the man, slowly drawing out her wallet and what had to be about fifty to seventy dollars or so, as if possessed before answering.

"T- The puzzle box." she repied softly and in gaze. He seemed to chuckle lightly, grasping ahold of the money without even truly counting it, as he slid the puzzle box to her.

"Take pleasure in it. It was yours, it was always yours."

Some had mumbled about this man being crazy, some had laughed in what they found to be a humorous comment when it was not, some had even continually questioned the man to repeat what he had spoken or what he had met.

But she, oh how she was quite something unique in her reaction.

"I know."

It wasn't truly herself speaking such words, trapped in this possessed gaze and fingers playfully rubbing about the puzzle box in a manner that wasn't solving it though. The man paused, curiously eyeing the woman as she blinked her eyes yet again, seemingly have returned to normal from her possessed gaze.

"I..I'll just be going now." Shana hastily said but managed to politely grin, rushing to exit from the shop with the puzzle box kept well in the pocket of her leather jacket and otherwise still grasped within her hand.

The Guardian Keeper resisted the urge of smiling, knowing and having sensed earlier she was not one of _them. _Not the normal humans he had encountered in restless search for pleasure or the Box alone.

Oh no, he knew to himself that it was finally time. That she was officially to say an exception of something in special store for her.

She was already far away from the shop, quickly rushing about to reach her apartment at such a destination far from here, as he chuckled loudly. Allowing himself to smile he nodded.

"Oh yes, something very special for you child..."

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><p><em><strong>Hm...very mysterious, isn't it? I bet you I left with a lot of question as well I hope. Shana Harley is indeed an OC who will play a major role, and I promise you Joey will come in the next chapter. But who do you suppose Shana's lover iswas? What makes her so special for the Lament Box and why would the Guardian Keeper even know? Find out!**_


	2. A Familiar Face?

_**Author's Note: **__Alrighty! Here we go for another chapter- this time starring...Joey Summerskill and an appearance of Pinhead, CD, Camerahead, Barbie, Pistonhead, Dreamer and someone else! I know Pinhead's name isn't really Pinhead. But Joey called him that, and I don't think she's ever going to find out (or honestly care) what his demon name is, Xipe Totec._

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><p><span>1. A Familiar Face?<span>

_Complete darkness surrounded her, concealing all of whatever once was before the environment she was in in this unfamiliar place. Glancing around, heart slowing nervously in worry of some typical monster in the closet to pounce out suddenly from behind and attack her._

_It was cold. Deathly cold for that matter, her flowing white gown certainly not something considerably appropriate for such a temperature, yet no goosebumps crawled across her pale flesh. She could only simply shudder whenever she chose to do so, therefore being the main give away she was dreaming overall._

_Glancing to her right, a glow of light had begun to form, a flickering, seemingly harmless flame. Fire that though didn't warm her as it continually grew through the piles of metal-ike debris, it attracted the attention of more things nearby to glow merrily, before turning into rather violent flames licking up the ground in which she stood at._

_Joanne, 'Joey' Summerskill gasp, her eyebrows raising high as she desperately turned in search of an escape from the hungerous flames, obviously coming close to engufling her in painful flames as well. The ring of fire trapping her, as by then suddenly a mysterious exit opened through as if by a powerful wind. _

_No, no such wind could do anythng to blow away flames so simply._

_"Fuck that!" Joey remarked to herself, dashing through the escape while her chance existed, flowing gown having surprisingly never once touched the flames. _

_Grasping ahold of parts of her dress to let her barefeet run without tripping over it, Joey couldn't help but turn her head back to the fire- which had suddenly vanished into the complete darkness. __Furrowing her brows confused, Joey had continued running when she felt herself bump straight into something hard- muscular, perhaps?_

_"JOANNE!" came the yelp of someone in complete concern over her, the masculine, English-accented voice that flowed her name perfectly, made Joey tense in wonder if she had bumped into something dangerous._

_Slowly turning her head up, it was official to say she did._

_"Pinhead.." she growled, narrowing her crystal blue eyes as she stumbled on her back, desperately crawling away in attempt to get away- foolish as the choice was for the suddenly panicked stricken Joey._

_"Oh shit." she mumbed, as he narrowed his cold, onyx black eyes and laughed in mock of her fear. Turning over, Joey felt her heart shatter at the sigt she wished she wouldn't have to find._

_His little 'Army' of Cenobites- some of them consisting of her friends. Her horribly mutilated, barely recgonizable friends for that matter._

_Specifically naming Doc and Terri._

_Joey felt her lip quiver, eyes welling at the sight of seeing Doc, her former cameraman with a camera shoved through his head, and little baby Terri- barely seventeen or eighteen, mutilated, deathly pale and bald, and cigarette protruding her throat. Grinning wide in mock like a chesire cat as she and (ex?)boyfriend, JP Munroe, the one with obnoxiously clanging pistons in his head, strutted towards her in pursuit._

_"We've been waiting such a long time to play with you girl..." Pinhead breathed, as behind him followed the other two Cenobites, the one with barbered wires across his face and the ability to brath fire, and the one with five CDs shoved through his head, folowing through eagerly as well._

_"JOANNE RUN!" the English accented voice, screamed as she felt a pair of strong hands grasp her shoulders, pulling her to her feet to run. A hand grasping hers tightly, pulling her to run as her feet felt suddenly stuck- not wanting to move. But eventually, they complied to escape whatever wrath was to come from her former friends and others turned demons._

_This dream she so desperately wanted to wake up from as her mind became dizzy, things flashing past at such a speed in her pounding headache. Simply wanting to rest or gasp for air in that matter, Joey's hand became sweaty and felt ready to slip from the mysterious grip._

_"Wait! Wait! Please!" she breathed, desperately gasping for air and choking on tears, hearing faintly the sound of the clanging pistons and robotic-like noises, as they were gaining on her._

_An ear piercing screech of something similar to nails scratching a black board, Joey's grabbed her ears, wanting to get down on her knees from all this mental pain being thrown at her. The soft, whispery purr of a cat in it's hiss, as Joey glanced up to the person helping her up yet again._

_Joey stared up, widened eyes at the sight of the face which was at first impossible to see from her blurried vision, but the forms of a handosme face had begun to shape through...pale skin and dark hair? But before she could truly straighten herself to see the face..a light had flashed, as well as the sudden burning pain in her back from Terri's cigarette, and a slash across her shirt from something sharp like knives hit her._

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><p>Joey Summerskill gasped, jumping suddenly from her bed she had been restlessly tossing and turning about, thrashing her bed covers and pillows. Heart racing, Joey grabbed her alarm clock to glance at the time being barely past four o'clock in the morning.<p>

Sighing tiredly, Joey let go of the alarm clock and fell back against the rather lumpy bed and ruffled pillows. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, this had been th fifth night straight in a row in which she had jumped suddenly from yet another confusing nightmare.

Her back throbbed, as Joey's hand went to her back to inspect underneath her nightgown as to what possible pain she had. But when her finger tips gently touched the very center of where the pain was great, she gasped at how rough and sensitive it was- stinging instantly from the pain to make Joey yelp.

Rushing out of bed quickly and towards the nearby bathroom as she threw off her nightgown, Joey gawked at the reflection of her nude body and the still slightly remaining scar by her breasts, turning to the side of her back to find, in disbelief, a small circle made of a 1st to 2nd degree burn.

"No way.." she mouthed, fingers touching the near sides to the burning wound, feeling the throb of another headache come on. Groaning, she stopped tending and poking her burn to rub her temples, stumbling to lean in support to the sink.

It felt like there was some kind of an echo to her heartbeat, as her head pounded loudly to the sound as if clanging and bashing against metal. Whatever it was in an unexplainable way, she honestly felt like Hell. And this was all simply because of a dream. Rather a nightmare in the matter of horrific categories and events it fell in, but still, dreams can't _actually_ hurt you- can they?

_"I can dream now Joey...oh you wouldn't believe what I can dream of now." _the whispery, dreamy voice whispered through echoes of her mind, making Joey grasp desperately on her head in effort to sooth her headache. Recalling the memories of the sweet homeless girl Terri, her tragic and myterious demise into a Cenobite- one of those _monsters._

Monsters? Which ones were honestly monsters? Hell, they were all innocent Joey supposed. Though she hadn't been there at their final moments as humans, she hadn't known what exactly caused Terri to end up like one of them. Had she betrayed Joey personally, in a cold stab wound to the heart? Had she been tricked? Seduced by that JP (After all, the poor girl seemed to not have entirely forgotten about him or their dysfunctional yet addictive love) or Pinhead? Was she threatened? Joey would honestly never know the answer...

What about the others? The bartender, _Doc, _the deejay? How or what did any of them do to get sucked into that matter? Joey sighed, knowing she had countlessly lectured herself times before to let go of the past, that it had been a year now. But she simply couldn't let go of the fact her goos friend and two other innocent people were rotting in Hell. It just wasn't fair, and honestly the regret drawn over in her heart everytime only made Joey blame herself more and more for their horrible fates.

What of that JP kid anyways? Joey guessed perhaps he wanted this willingly, but the kid was a spoiled, dumbass with the maturity of some grade school kid- not honestly the murderous demon type.

And all that finally lead down to a hatred of Pinhead- the pin faced demon bastrd that Joey hoped was rotting in the core of Hell or...the Labyrinth? She couldn't quite recall the name of the horrid place, but when her headache had finally cleared, a heartache had quickly followed she remembered them all and the suffering Pinhead had brought.

Stepping quietly out of the bathroom, leaning down to the ground and grabbing ahold of her nightgown to quickly place back on, Joey admittedly flushed embarassed over having just run into her bathroom nude suddenly. Just what if...in the slightest manner that in an impossible chance, Elliot- _Elliot _was ny her apartment again. Giggling softly to herself at the imagination of Elliot's surprised expression to find her stripped down to all the way nude.

Oh _Elliot._

Joey stared sadly, her gaze focused on the curtains in front of her. As if she expected to unfurl them and find Elliot, Captain Elliot Spencer, behind waiting for her. For whatever reason may be, that he'd be there waiting just for _her._

Shaking her head to bring back some sense into the young reporter, Joey knew for certain Elliot was to never return. He had re-joined that demon bastard that was truly, from Joey's honest point of view, nothing at all like him.

But unable to resist the temptation, since she was already too restless enough to easily fall back asleep again, Joey slowly approached her pale white curtains, fingers trembling as they grasped the curtains, back still slightly throbbing again from the wound, as she then quikly thrashed the curtains away to reveal..

Nothing.

No Elliot to be found, tragically as Joey merely glanced in hopes that if she blinked something she had missed would reappear in some form of the supernatural.

But the idea to it would've been pointless anyways, as Joey sighed and grabbed ahold of the curtains to quickly throw them back together again. Honestly, she didn't want to go back asleep. It would still be most likely difficult again, but then again she needed to sleep. As much as she could grasp, since a reporter's job was never easy and constantly sent on the run for a good story.

Laying down her head gently on the pillow she had quickly punched about to make softer, Joey's crystal blue eyes stared at the red lights of her alarm clock until her eyes began to tear up, and she quickly turned away. Through all the heartache, she had always repeated to herself as she mouthed the number of days it had past.

Today marked it's official big hit number.

365 days.

One full year since Hell came to Earth, unleashed but barely at it's beginning of God knows what Joey dared not to think. That bloodbath at the club, the sickening sights of all those gruesome bodies would've only been the beginning...but all those memories repeatedly flashed back in her mind whenever she thought of something simple that connected to it all.

_'Just let it go, Joey. You need to let go.' _she mentally reminded herself in weak effort for a pep talk. But Joey shook her head lightly, squeezing her eyes shut as she resisted the tempting tears.

"I can't." she mumbled loudly alone to herself.

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><p><em>Elsewhere<em>

Deep within the further, icy darkness of the Labyrinth in all powerful control was the silver diamond god, Leviathan, watching with eyes that ceased to ever exist of the mighty balance kept well across the 'kingdom' of Hell itself. Despite his fury at his crown jewel of a favored son, his betrayal for the brief moment to all the laws of Hell and the Lament Configuration, Leviathan admittedly found something useful of the embarassing events.

His son, Xipe Totec, had stolen innocents souls in preparation for an army that was never to come in a similar idea to a replacement of his original Gash- which personally Leviathan preferred the loyal original Gash that ad maintained the fear yet professionalism unlike the imatturity of these...pseudos. It sickened the diamond God that these servants continued to carry memories of their humanity.

They belonged to serve him and his son, and no one else. They were not to remember anything for that matter except that he was their God.

However, if possible for a physcial ability to grin, Leviathan honestly would've done so. He was proud of his son for the actions done, because there was rather a useful way found finally and truly from within the group Xipe had transformed, with the memories of their umanity came the memories of the attachments in their lives.

Including one in particular.

The psuedo Cenbite that made electronic movements as he moved, with five "CDs" (Leviathan honestly didn't care for the names of the humans new fangled technology and the exact titles to them) lodged through his skull. In the memories Leviathan had curiously found through his mind telepathically while searching bored and restlessly through all their minds came the impossible.

He had been in attachment to..._the Key._

The Key to the door that stood in between the pathetic humans and the mighty balance of the Labyrinth's pain and pleasure, eager to harvest the countless souls. Tragic as it was to infuriated the diamond God, the Key wasn't a sinned soul. Not necessarily pure, but not even near anywhere amongst the damn that obliged his son to take her to their place, to have her show the destiny of the Labyrinth and do so.

Well...she wasn't a sinned soul _yet._

Aware from the Guardian Keeper's information, the Key now had possession of the Lament Box and there was a twinge of an uncontrollable possession in her for a temptatin to open it within possibly days- _hours _from now. And oh, how Leviathan truly could not wait so for that day to come.

The game he had full control of in the years of well thought out plotting, having barely told his remaining loyal son the important details, all it was going to take was a twinge in toying with this human woman's emotions, her love to that pseudo when he had been human, and soon the souls would be harvested.

Oh yes, Leviathan could hardly in wait in his eagerness...until he ha stumbled upon a rather disturbing visions of a human female heroine destroying the perfectly plotted plan. Her stubborness a personal curse with a previous history of an arch nemesis in Hell, similar to that Kirsty Cotton girl he could recall his son obssessing over for her soul's beauty.

He would do whatever it would take to make certain the Key would do her destiny- and that human female would _**not**_stand in the way. No matter what.

It was only a matter of time now.

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><p><em><strong>Hm...what do you think? This is my first time ever writing in serious second point of view to Leviathan. Tad difficult to write when he never really has a speaking role in the film or a personality really fo rthat matter LOL. But it's said he keeps balance in Hell and well- in basic- hates humans. LOL<strong>_

_**Free cookies to anyone who spotted the Pinsty hint. Mostly a big Jelly hint thrown in, and yes Kirsty will appear briefly later- but not for long and she will not be the hero, nor will there be any Pinsty romance. Just...demon Pinny obssessing and drooling over her in secrecy LOL. Hm...so who do you suppose is the 'Key' and what does that have to do with CD?**_

_**BTW, 'pseudo cenobites' is a term I learned from the Hellraiser wikia. It's the kind of Cenobites that remember their human pasts like the ones in Hellraiser 3.**_


	3. An Unwanted Brief Reunion

_**Author's Note:**__ WHY am I addicted to constantly making author notes? ! Oh well, again a big wonderful thanks to all my reviewers so far- so hope you can enjoy this third chapter. I wish I could make them longer, and it feels like they're actually pretty large chapters- maybe it's because my new computer is a tad weird to getting used to. Oh well, soon I'll hopefully have four thousand to five thousand word chapters. ;) This chapter is slightly humorish BTW._

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><p><span>2. An Unwanted Brief Reunion<span>

Joey Summerskill was admittedly not one enthusiastic over mornings, especially with the requirements of having to get up early. After rolling about restlessly in bed, eyes closed for resting but despite the effort, unable to fall asleep, it then occurred in surprise to Joey she had yet to develop a grudge against her alarm.

Narrowing her tired, crystal blue eyes at it exactly as the numbers slowly changed from the exact late last minutes of five 'o clock morning to by then officially six.

_'Yeah and while you 'beeped beeped beeped' in my face at five fuckin' thirty in the morning I 'beat beat beat' the heck outta ya.' _she remarked to herself privately in thoughts, not necessarily concerned about showing up late too work. Rather the timing she had officially awoken without the excuse of a nightmare was rather early.

In preparation before when she had beautifying herself up, she made a scowl to the lightly make-up covered face of pale rouge colored lipstick on her lips and the dash of msascara. It was honestly unfair of the peverse expectation from the cranky boss of hers, constantly finding some sort of minor flaw to restlessly lecture her about how she failed to have herself appear impressive.

"Always gotta apparently have a sex appeal in order to get into the big top. Psh, well not for me." Joey muttered to herself, getting up to fix herself a small cup of coffee before heading out on the quick go like the usual routine. Though rather there was something about this morning seemingly slow for this morning, and the slightest jerking twitch inside Joey desperately wanted to snap and scream. Make time go faster just to get past this day in comparison of any of the others.

Admittedly, Joey naturally had good days with the promise of a possible, better future. Along with it was the other side, the grudgingly awful days with discourage and such. But this day, which hadn't even necessarily started was the one day more than ever she wanted it to end. So damn badly.

It was the one year anniversary.

No, not a marriage or remarkable moment for good remembrance. It was rather a bad one, that for the most unexplainable reason most of New York seemed to shrug off for that matter. As if when the yellow taped was wrapped about later around the body count of the Boiler Room, people were paid to keep quiet, footage erased of the gruesome sights, and seemed to ignore it. Like it all never happened.

Yet the dreams were the key to all the personal memories for Joey who though wasn't about to pour into quick tears, grieving like an overemotional widow. But...the lingering fact overall was those mutilarted demons that pursed her, cornered her at the construction site- were once familiar faces to those she knew or met briefly.

Joey made certain she wasn't about to cry again. There were already enough tears shed over that, but that didn't stop her heart from beating in guilt. The forever endless questions 'What If' to all the mistakes made, all caused in blame to herself. What if...she had never called Doc to meet her at the Boiler Room? Would she still somehow find his decapitated head in his hands? What if...she had never left Terri alone? Brought her along in search for the desperate stoy of a lifetime? Would she had never gone off to wherever she had gone off to (most likely in wonder to the Boiler Room or something to do with JP)? Questions that would never be answered, with Joey left to imagine the answers. But the pain itself to it was real, constantly there in just slightest reminder would it all slam right back into her face like a punch.

Sighing heavily, the heave deep with the filling emotions of guilty, sympathy, anger and shame to herself, and the stress of her mind giving herself another lecture- the soft, solemn moment was interrupted by the obnoxiously loud ringing of her phone. And just from the normal tone to it alone, Joey had a suspicious feeling it involved her boss itching to scream something again. Complain about her being late.

Not wanting to deal with his grouchy voice, Joey quickly tapped the button to her nearby answering machine and send him to automatic voice message.

_'Joey, get your mopin' ass over here down here! We've got a nice arson story for ya, either show up or it's you that's fired.'_

Rolling her eyes, Joey folded her arms in order to calm herself with her already tightened fists ready to punch her poor message machine. However, the mention of arsonist sparked to Joey's mind curiously. As she could recall from the light sleep she received, there had yet to be any noise of fire trucks rushing about. Then again, it hadn't been said the fire occurred somewhere nearby her neighborhood. For that matter, she didn't even know what happened. Not a thing, just the basic, wrongly spoken, command in order to have her questions answered. Just hurry up- in an improvised, not favored way for Joey.

"A little please oughtta kill ya." she muttered downward to the answering machine, in search for her jacket, took out the pot of coffee and managed to at least muster a few sips of a good, steaming hot cup for some well needed burst of energy. Deciding to skip out on breakfast, Joey then quickly rushed towards her door. Nearly heading out, she then realized at last minute she had forgotten her keys.

Grinning lightly at her foolish mistake, she wondered what kind of angry nonsense she would've found herself locked outside door and giggled to the entertaining thought. But as she turned around towards the kitchen counter where her set of keys was simply left, a sudden chilling wind blew past.

Turning around swiftly on her feet, Joey's heart pounded. Rather tense as though as if expecting some sort of a being to have snuck up on her suddenly. Staring blankly at her nearby furniture, she then relaxened slightly and blinked her eyes several times before grasping ahold of her keys and slowly placing them in her jacket pocket.

But then there came the sudden sizzling noise, the fizzing poor connection of when the television was at an unavailable channel and would show nothing butthe grey fuzy screen.

Wait- when did she turn on the T.V?

Turning sharply back to where her living room was, Joey was slow onher feet as if purposely adding her own playful suspense to herself as to discovering whether or not the television had mysteriously turned itself on.

_'Christ might as well call the Ghostbusters.' _Joey bitterly but humorously thought to herself, taking a close approach to find that strangely indeed the television was on. Or...perhaps left on? On a bad signal for a channel, with only the blurried grayish black and white there on the screen.

But suddenly, the screen itself seemed to brighten several times strangely. Briefly blinding Joey with every time it repeatedly glowed brightly, the noise of the fuzzy signal growing increasingly loud without the remote turning it on.

But for a paused moment when it hadn't been flashing so brightly, did Joey uncover her face from her hands, and narrowed them to what appeared to be something forming. No- a figure? Did panicking seem neccessary yet to and besides concerned and curious?

But...there seemed to be something of a face- a strangely familiar one.

_'J...J...Jo...Joe...Joey...Joey...' _the such mufflings of a voice, barely audible and nearly unable to tell if it was the voice of a male or a female- though Joey was going to figure it was a male's voice most likely calling to her. But from where? And for whatever for?

Shaking her head, Joey squeezed her eyes, trying to get ahold of what was going on. Everything was feeling blurried and warpped, giving Joey a light, confusing headache.

_'Joey..Joey please! ...Joey...w...' _the voice sounded cracked inbetween the shackling loud noises of the blurried signal, barely able to distinguish any words other than her repeated name.

"What?" she mumbled dryly, in the midst of what felt like pressure banging at her.

_'Joey...Joanne! Wake up Joey!' _the voice...it was so clear now. An all too familiar English accent that Joey unfortunately, from all the such strange blurs, couldn't think of a possible name her mind could draft through and remember. Honestly, she could barely think at the present moment except for a few basic things of now- like to be most certainly, utterly over concerned and to quickly consider the options of either leaving her apartment immediately or turning off the television.

But as Joey shook her head to make the pain go away and approach the television, the clacking of her three inch heel boots stopping dead in the tracks. The remarkable, yet disturbing evidence of something now, officially being truly wrong.

The television wasn't plugged in at all. Yet somehow it was indeed fully turned on, and though fizzing with no specific channel on- good God, it was _on _without a plug!

Joey stopped, and suddenly felt the feeling of someone approaching behind her, and though unable to even feel the slightest breath, hear any sort of a heartbeat. It just felt like someone was _there_, and the presence, according to Joey's pit feeling of worry, was that this mysterious, unknown presence was something of a threat.

Joey gulped rather loudly, a chill quickly traveling down her spine, and eyes widened. She wasn't trembling scared out of her mind or whatever, but obviously nervous to turn around.

_'Joey wake up! Wake up! You're in her own world!' _that voice from the television, though suddenly sounded faded and barely there. Like the slightest tingling whisper in her mind, and curled her fists.

Sharply turning did Joey find-

_Terri._

Mutilated, leather clad Terri, her face barely recognizable from the original sweet, young, innocent face of doe eyes and a warm smile. No, this was a brightly pale, demon face of Terri sniggering ever so lightly in the airy, new dreamy voice of hers. The heat of her cigarette just inches from Joey's white blouse, the smoke wickedly kissing against it with the tingle of heat.

"Hi Joey." she breathed, grin spreding widely across her naturally wicked appearing face.

Joey widened her eyes, startled, and before able to react physically or mentally did Terri continue.

"Miss me?" she sniggered, grasping ahold of her spare cigarette in which had been the one that burned Joey the exact year ago at the construction site, and poking it directly andpainfully towards Joey's heart before she could scream.

_'Joey wake up!'_

* * *

><p>Snapping awake suddenly, Joey blinked her eyes and wildly jerked, causing her right hand to knock over the nearby coffee and spill about her wrist and staining that with the unpleasent color of a tanish moca mixed with the snow white blouse.<p>

"Ugh ow! oh! Dammit!" Joey shrieked, the stinging pain of the spilled burning coffee on her wrist unpleasent, while her left hand had accidentally knocked away the keys off the kitchen table.

Wait? What happened? Merely and innocently glancing around, her heart slowed down from it's previous rapid, panicked and tense beats at the sight of Terri. Terri...the mentioning of the poor girl's name was upsetting, but startling to know what she _was_ now- and according to that dream, or whatever that was, she seemed perfectly happy with what was she as well.

Feeling over towards her chest, Joey could feel no such burn mark, honestly not a thing there. The only honest existing pain being the burned sleeve.

And a frightened mind despite the roaring protests of it being only a simple doze off. But for Joey, it honestly felt real- even the exact touch to it for something out of a dream.

Impossible. They couldn't possibly be back. She sent them in the Box, and the Box itself was currently at the base below the floor of some big building for a brand top-notch corporation (like Joey honestly cared of their name).

That one Box was the only one way for them to possibly return, and Joey had honest thoughts to believe there was no way it had yet to reappear somewhere. Not at all...right? The chances and possibilities didn't add up, each explanation Joey quickly thought up briefly all ended quickly with the fact they simply made no possible sense.

Turning to the side, and nearby where her wide open door was not far from, she swallowed hard before glancing down to finally pay full attention to rather noticcable stain on her sleeve. Boy was that going to take weeks to get out, an unfortunate adventure Joey certainly did not look forward to.

And at last moment did it suddenly come plummeting down on her for the fact- _oh crap- _she was totally late for this supposed 'hot' story (Humoring to that it involves an arson attack) and a lovely chat with her boss, who's name should honestly be changed to 'Mr. Sunshine'.

Rushing quickly out the door, slamming it loudly and abandoning the soon to go cold coffee, the fast news life was something Joey was normally used to. So, why suddenly so jittery with everything seeming so out of place.

_'When someone tells me why on the one year anniversary it's turning into a reunion with me and Terri.' _Joey bitterly thought to herself as she approached her car, stopping to close her eyes and think for a brief moment as she opened the door before getting in, driving off down to the station.

* * *

><p><strong>Hm...what could this mean? Was the dream real? And just what building was burned down? Who was telling Joey to wake up? Mystery...hm..:)<strong>


	4. Some Sight to Show

_**Author's Note:**__ Hopefully I can make this chapter long enough for you guys. I'm honestly angry at myself for how short these chapters are, and how suckish they truly are. Don't worry, I assure you they'll get better. ;)_

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><p><span>3. Some Sight To Show<span>

36th Street. Common streetname for a not too common place. Somewhat nearby Manhattan, a nearly familiar route to the sight of an unfamiliar building.

Or _formerly _a building.

A charred, midnight black smoke, mess was all of what once remained of a not too lively building. Perhaps a recently built-in apartment made of poor fire protection systems or out-dated, highly flammable furniture. Partial, barely recognizable debrsi scattered about, though no sight or sign of any such skeletons. A slight relief at least there were no casualties, but it hadn't answered the lingering question in Joey's mind.

When the hell did this supposed building even come to existence?

Perhaps she had passed it once without noticing or, as she suggested in hopeful explanation, a recently built in place. But...never once in the rare times she would pass by did she see any sort of construction in the process. Actually, the skeptical idea in mind sarcastically questioning in her mind was _'Didn't that used to be a dirty alleyway? Not dirty apartment?'_

Well, quickly following after the lecture to herself that Joey needed improvement on her sarcastic humor rather than her sex appeal and attraction according to those down at the station highly picky over her every single minor, 'notticable' flaws.

Ah yes, and in mention of the wonderful, impatient boss grouchily awaiting for Joey's presence which had been delayed. The conversation went into a rather interesting turn, with Joey silently approaching the editing room to find her boss's back turned and violently screaming his heart out to the unfortune person on the other line, demanding for Joey. Upon timidly calling but boldly aproaching in the room, she startled him into a near heart attack, before he erupted out like a volcano.

_'Christ Joey, you're thinking too much about fire lately. Calm down, this is just an arson story...' _she made a mockery out of herself the second her mind had taken to notice all the similarities of such unnecessary puns, all linking to fire. To the arson report she was soon to cover, if not the place were already swarmed with other reporters that were wannabes to hit the big top.

And with it all, as Joey kept a steady concentration, hands tightly but casually relaxened on the steering wheel, it seemed as though there was another thing screaming that it had similarity, or the very least to say a connection to her dream earlier before the unwanted reunion supposed dream sequence. Remembering the field of fire she had managed to escape through, the one caused by something unknown- and just as strangely put out suddenly. Though she hadn't had time to take notice while running for her life while being pursed by eager demons.

Tired as she was, as well as cranky with a low supply of patience due to the lack of caffiene in her system, she wasn't about to let herself fall asleep. She figured perhaps the mid-morning madness soon to come of her daily job would wake her wide awake, though surprisingly her screaming boss, Ryan, hadnt woken her up. Quite something considering how many screw looses he had in his head when things didn't go his way, and the occurance of getting into a nearly heated argument with him. Though unfortunately, the advantage to it was, Ryan could fire Joey whenever he chose to. So for a regular, hellish basis Joey _had_ to hold down her tongue. And right now, she _had_ to keep her eyes wide awake. Which, taking notice to it, it was slowly starting to develop as being rather challenging to do so.

The sudden tap turned knocking upon the window right beside the front passenger's seat startled her suddenly, turning to find none other than Mark White. The young, basic replacement of Doc as her cameraman. Mark was a kid, roughly around twenty or so, fair skin and a sweet, innocent face with a fraction remainder of a 'baby face' with the large blue eyes and coy smile, and honestly someone with true brains. It marvelled Joey as to why this kid wasn't currently attendng some high class college. And it wan't like his kind personality and respect to her and his job was all an act in the many desperate ways to earn good cash, he acted like this even in the real life to it. Still, there must've been one kind of an interesting story for any reporter to be naturally curious.

But Joey wasn't obnoxious, so she hadn't quite brought up that in the typical, small talk conversations she would normally share with Mark. In speaking of which now, was grinning lightly. Though what he speaking to her seemed rather mouthed and murmured, drowned out by the humming noise of an engine, and Joey realized she had accidentally left the car running. Exchanging an apologetic grin back to Mark, she quickly parked the car and exited out of her seat to catch whatever was left Mark saying.

"- plan on coming out at some point?" he had been joking, and Joey shrugged, cheeks tingled though not blushing as he grasped ahold of his somewhat hand held camera. The technology within the year seemed to advance rather quickly, to where the size of cameras were a bit smaller, easier to grasp ahold of with two hands with their slightly lighter weight.

"Sorry Mark. Hey don't count yourself lucky, ya scared me half to death. I could've sprayed you." Joey winked, gesturing to the can of pepper spray in her hand that had been accidentally left in the car the other day. She didn't always travel about carrying it with her, but on the occasion she felt a slight need to bring with her such as now.

Mark chuckled loudly, before turning over with the sudden attention of the crowd of those gathering about in murmurs over what could've happen, and the midst of brightly chirping reporters re-telling their own version of the story.

"Well c'mon, better get on with the story before people get bored of seeing the same story over and over, even if it's your pretty face telling it." Mark winked.

Oh yes, a kindly baby faced boy with a devilish charm that used when at times he wanted. Though Joey was five years older, not honestly that much of an age difference, neither one was interested in one another. The relationship was a mutual friendship, though they would tease one another and engage in harmless flirting. Though sometimes it seemed as though you couldn't maintain a friendship of the opposite gender without others suspecting a romantic relationship, as some of the workers down at the station would tease her.

Shaking her head, Joey nodded and headed forth, following behind Mark. But as she politely tried to walk past the growing crowd of curious go-byers or those who must've been familiar with the building and surprised of how it had been suddenly burned down.

Suddenly, it seemed as though Mark had disappeared from the crowd, and by then Joey started to gently nudge and push people in the crowd out of the way so she could hopefully and quickly catch up to where the kid had gone off, her head frantically searching. About to call his name out while she walked, Joey suddenly felt herself smack straight into somebody, and both fell down to the pavement.

"Ouf! Oh! Sorry!" the voice of a female with a city accent quickly apologized, as a pair of slim arms attempted to help Joey off the ground. Shaking her head and trying to re-gain herself, Joey took sight to the person she had bumped into and nodded.

"Thanks! Look..I..I'm really sorry." she stuttered a bit, having still been a bit shaken and hurt, and finally saw the woman that had kindly helped her off the ground.

A young woman, mocha brown skin and shoulder length black hair. Though with a strange artificially dyed red bang that covered a major part of her face and right eye, and bright hazel eyes widened with full concern and apology.

"No, no, it's my fault. I was- was just standing around you know." the woman said to Joey, smiling warmly and shrugging her hands.

"No, I should've been paying attention. I, uh, I'm a reporter you see- name's Joey Summerskill. I lost my little cameraman and was trying to find him again cos..look I don't wanna sound rude but I'm in a bit of a hurry." Joey hastily said, eyes scanning around though paid attention to whatever this woman had to say next.

"Oh then you should probably go, look sorry for the trouble. And it's nice to meet ya Joey. I'm Shana, Shana Ham-" the woman, Shana pursed her lips suddenly to hold back whatever she was about to say. Eyes quickly trailing to nothnig in particular nearby, they focused back to Joey and made an airy, apologetic chuckle.

"Sorry, I uh, meant to say I'm Shana Harley." Shan grinned widely, though hadn't outstretched her hand for a traditional hand shake greet. Which was just fine, as behind Shana did Joey catch the sight of Mark, obviously searching for her through the crowd. Once he spotted her as well and met her gaze, his eyes obviously filled with the need to hurry in concern, waved his right hand to signal her over. Joey silented nodded to him, catching Shana's curious attention to turn around. For a brief moment, Mark seemed rather attracted to Shana, as he had smiled widely with the slightest pink tingle in his cheeks to be seen.

Shana then turned back her attention to Joey, making a clear pathway for Joey to go through and gestured for her to go on ahead.

"Oh, thank you Shana. Really." Joey repeated, as if 'thank you' had been the only thing spoken to one another throughout the entire conversation. Though Shana hadn't responded as she simply nodded, with Joey kindly walking past to meet up with Mark and start up with their story of the mysterious arson attack. Apparently, from the witness Mark had briefly spoken to while turning back to find Joey, it just seemed so random to occur, the neighbors who had frantically dialed 911 at somwhwere between 3 to 4 AM hadn't heard or seen a thing. This was a bad street anyways, one of those vile parts of town that many years ago was famous for bloody showdown between two drug ganglords, the casualties high in both gang members and the unfortune innocent by-passers that had tried to escape. And since then, though the news was still and errie silent, ganglords were rumored to be lurking about sometimes.

_'Like some pathetic ghost story.' _Shana bitterly thought to herself, having lived on this street at a young age and then having returned to it recently for what had been planned for only a two months' stay. She was a typical, city girl turned rather into something of a made biker-girl. Though not quite part of any gang, she travelled with whatever group was willing to take her along the ride. Her bike was the only true, considerable home for her. Most pitstops barely were more than a day or two, on an occassion staying for a week. And very rarely for a month. Though this was her hometown, she had been born in the hospital that was torn down eight years ago after going bankrupt, and lived in these streets for roughly six years or so. But after the unfortunate and sudden event of her father walking out of her and her mother's life, her mother had nearly entered foreclosure after being unable to afford to pay the taxes. So, the house was left abandoned until now, a year ago, had Shana returned to it after her mother's sudden death/possible suicide from overdose on pills.

Though the house was more of a mess than she had recalled in her younger years, the street themselves hadn't changed much. From Shana's own point of view, she had never once ever encountered any sort of drug lord. There had never been any heard of stories, never any concerns or murders. The only honest flaw about 36th Street, was it horribly filthy. Stupidly filthy, not a meathouse of murder or some kind of sin city. She sighed, knowing people nowadays had a habit of assuming by the looks of something before even knowing.

Looking at the charred remains of the building, in which by then the police seemed to find their cue to come on like the cover-up heroes to a crime show, backing the crowd away, did Shana find it strange of the conincidence.

It had been nearly two o'clock AM when _she _went to the very house itself, or something of what she had at least thought in its appearance (Here she is criticiszing those who would judge the streets she had grown up, yet foolishly makes remarks about a building. She groaned, realizing how much of a hypocrite she just appeared as now in her thoughts.) seemed like an old, rundown pawn shop.

In which she had found herself buying a charming puzzle box, painted in gold and bronze, with ancient patterns and seemed seemingly worn down and old. Though the shine to it was what gave off it's honest charm, though from the very moment Shana had grasped it within her hands there was something...off.

She couldn't exactly describe it, since it was rather just an inner feeling from the inside. As she had walked home the night before, she had assured to herself in relief that she was simply still uneasy about the pawn shop itself. Yet, still, there were a couple of strange matters to it thst seemed to just suddenly occurr at her apartment (the very same one from her childhood) that had never happened before. Such as how when she had placed it delicately on her coffee table nearby the television, it seemed to suddenly not work as properly, the screen fuzzing out until she took the box away. As if some sort of a strange magnet that seemed to have a habit of causing mishabs with technology.

Just holding it alone, in her hands and kept tightly in her leather jacket pocket as she had rushed him during that cold, brisky night before, did there seem something of the supernatural. Though Shana didn't honestly give a care for any sort of ghost or demon in existence, just the movies were hilarious to laugh at with their nonsense gore feasts, and the passed down ghost stories something to make her spine chill when in boredom.

Yet this Box seemed to make a sudden exception. To the very touch of it, it felt as though there were a sudden heavy beat to it, a slightest tingling vibration to it's touch. A sudden chill that spread goosepimples about her body, almost leaving her with the feeling as though there were something...something _alive_ inside, ready and waiting to burst out of the little, seemingly harmless Box.

And, in a deep thought of worry to Shana, she suddenly wondered if that Box was perhaps the very reason why it burned down in the first place. What if-

* * *

><p><em>"And this is Joey Summerskill reporting to you live from, Channel 8. If you have any information as to this mysterious arson case, please, we insist for you to contact our station immediately." <em>

Mark had made a small hand gesture, a slightly careless wave, signalling at to that the camera was cut and that Joey could relaxen from the bright 'reporter's smile' she would put on in catching attention.

Normally, most cameramen would say something of a phrase "That's a wrap" or perhaps even the one sued by cameramen making movies that when the directors would announce "Aaand cut". But in this case for Mark and Joey, it had been less than two weeks or so when the statin had re-hired somone to make as Joey's permanent cameraman. But she herself was still in mourning over Doc. Therefore, Joey had kindly but strongly requested one time and one time only for the rest of all their boradcasts together to Mark something special, in which the kid had promised to take to heart.

* * *

><p><em>"Mark...you, I don't want to sound off as rude or anything but...but could you do me a favor and please don't say "That's a wrap"." she had softly requested, face hidden in a mask of something all chirpy in a morning mood, since this was the first time they were about to broadcast together, and neutral so he wouldn't get curious as to why she asked with a face of anger or upset.<em>

_But there must've been a cracked somewhere, perhaps she was pulling off too much of a grin, or maybe her eyes were watering, Hell, maybe there was gossip amongst the station over the surprise of Doc's "murder" being one of many, with being a part of the tragic group of bodies never found._

_Whatever the case was, the over-excited face of Mark to start off the job had faded into complete sympathy as in a low, hoarse voice did he simply reply:_

_"It's what the last camerman- your friend- said, wasn't it?"_

_Fighting tears with as much effort as possible then, Joey had nodded slowly._

* * *

><p>Since then, Mark had deeply respect her request. They still otherwise had a chemistry of a wonderful friendship, something in a different approach. Rather unique from the friendship Joey had shared with Doc, considering for one idea that this time it was now Joey that was the older friend. Not that she was necessarily old, just...it was one difference she could point out.<p>

"Ugh, thank God. Mark, boy do I need a nap." Joey groaned, announcing as she rubbed her tired eyes that had been shone through many times by the strangely blazing sun of today, wide and bright without any sign of mercy on the tired reporter.

Mark seemed to understand, recently indeed as Joey had told him she hadn't beeen getting much sleep. He protested and insisted she see a doctor, but would always refuse and insisted she was fine. Mark sighed, tempted to roll his eyes. It was all too typical that Joey would refuse. She was...strong willed. Well, an excuse from what the true word Mark wanted to think but not sound obnoxious about his friend, which really Joey was honestly _stubborn._

"I feel ya Joey. Though you know you haven't seen the last of Ryan unfortunately." he informed, in which Joey nodded in agreement before yawning.

"Yeah. That guy must have some permanent pole up his ass, or must play darts with me as the target board constantly behind my back to hate me this much." Joey shrugged, though she was actually being honest and hadn't meant for it to be a joke.

Though Mark must've figured it was, though as he opened his mouth to chuckle, instead came a smooth, feminie laughter. Turning over, the two caught sight of Shana, who had somehow made her past through the rowdy crowd and cops. The young woman stepped through to where they were, flushing a bit for appearing as though she had come through at an unexpect and inappropriate moment.

"Sorry, am I interrupting anything?" Shana's voice chimed, as Mark and Joey exchanged a rather surprised glance, with Mark's eyes slightly bluged wide while Joey's mouth was left opened a bitm unsure of what to say before slowing turning over and answering.

"N- No. Not at all. Can I help you Miss...Harley?" Joey asked, pausing for a few moments to recall the name. _'Harley. Shana Harley. Hm..gotta remember that one.' _the reporter reminded herself.

"Um, yeah. I was sorta, well taking up to your offer. Well, request about the whole arson mytery. Like, if we knew anything.." Shana trailed off, tunring over behind to look around and see if anyone had noticed she had slipped past. Though there were no familiar facesthrough the crowd that would've snitched her out, nor had the cops even noticed.

Mark, who's eyes had already bulged about before and had even before that seemed to have found her rather attractive, just simply had his eyes plain widened like some kind of a bug. In the kind of surprise disbelief as though Shana had happily declared she committed murder.

"Oh! Sorry! I mean, well I don't know who's behind this. And it wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking!" Shana suddenly, chuckling a bit as she blurted that out fastly, raising her hands in a manner for Mark to obviously chill. The young cameraman relaxened, and grinned, walking downward to greet her as he outstretched his hand for a shake.

"Hi there. I'm Mark White. Joey's- er, you've met Joey here, right?" Mark turned over to Joey, before back to Shana who nodded.

"Yes I did. I've met Joey, and it's a pleasure to meet you Mark. I'm Shana Harley." she replied somewhat casually, and relaxed. Though for Joey, it almost seemed as though Shana were on tense guard duty, for the obvious reason that she could be thrown out or in trouble for having cross the tape lines and onto the crime scene.

"So, Joey. You know Shana?" Mark asked after a quick awkward pause had set in between the three as Joey shook her head.

"No. I bumped into Shana here on accident when I lost you in the crowd." the reporter explained simply, as Mark's mouth made an 'o' shape, saying no more. He's expression on his face was basically meant as 'Gotcha', and with a wink headed over towards his equipment to pack up.

After he left, Shana smiled slightly before turning her attention towards Joey.

"Mark's a nice kid." Joey commented, simply shrugging her shoulders. Joey didn't typically play the role as Matchmaker, nor did she favor it for that matter. But Mark really seemed attracted to her, and he hadn't dated anyone since his high school sweetheart, Karen, died in a car accident three months after he had gotten his reporter job. He seemed ready to go back into the dating world, and this Shana character seemed interesting.

Unfortunately though, with how Joey had handled the sentence, Shana seemed to have figured out what the reporter had started to implied and chuckled.

"I'm sorry I..I'm engaged. Well, sort of.." Shana paused, her tone trailing off rather sadly. Joey wondered what Shana meant, though was rather surprised, judging by the age in Shana's looks, she couldn't honestly but no older than twenty two or twenty three. It was a bit startling, seeing as though nowadays kids couldn't wait to jump the broom, get 'hitched' in another term that Joey found was hilarious. Kids that would turn recently eighteen would run off with their boyfriend or girlfriend and go get married. It was crazy. Joey herself, as repeated was young, but wanted to wait just about another year or so before officially feeling ready to settle despite being already mature enough to look into the ideas of a serious relationship, marriage, kids, etc. The things her mother had always hoped for and was constantly excited for, such as one time when she had brought over Nate (Another shithead of a boyfriend in the episodes of 'Joey's Shithead Boyfriends' who barely lasted three weeks.) her mother had been unable but to blurt out excitedly in question as to whether or not Joey was pregnant.

"Joey?" Shana's voice rang curiously, waving her hand and pouting her lip. Joey blinked her eyes once before suddenly snapping back, shaking her head and turning over her attention to Shana.

"Like I was saying, you said you wanted answers or something in any form of involvement that could be all helpful and stuff. Well, would even crazy shit count?" the city girl asked, brushing away her red bang from her other hazel eye. It was a bit of a wonder why Shana wanted to hide one of her lovely eyes that had such a nice color, and for that manner better yet, as to why she dyed her bang such a bright color.

"Depends on what exactly you mean by crazy shit, Shana." Joey said slowly and suspicious, a bit concerned as to what Shana meant.

"You mind heading over to my apartment for a quick visit? I can make ya lunch or somethin'. It's not anything fancy or whatever, and look I know we just meet but, I honestly think this is something you're gonna like to hear." Shana offered, stuttering a bit with her words quickly. Joey seemed to take it all in quickly, well aware and signalled her to continue with her sentence.

"I'm not busy, and besides, I could use any sort of excuse to escape the wrath of the Wicked Bitch- Witch of the West...excuse me, my boss Ryan. Is this something interesting?" Joey inquired, now fully interested. Arching one eyebrow high, while Shana on the other hand made a slight, mischievious smile.

"Oh boy is it some sight to show." was the response with an eager tone.

* * *

><p><strong>Some sight to show...oh shit. Might be trouble? Honestly, this was easier and more fun for me to write. Joey and Shana are such an interesting friendship, similar to Joey's friendship to Terri but different. Shana has a way different personality, it has suc a fun spark with Joey's personality. I gurantee I won't be the only one who cries when...well, you'll see. ;)<strong>


	5. Lonely Girl in the City

_**Author's Note:**__ Hey everybody! Chapter numero cinco is now up! Yipee! But we're far from even when things and the plot itself thickens. Thisis actually considerably light and a tad fluffy in the beginning half, but the next half gets all serious and solemn. And then later chapters is when we finally move on to the heartbreaking angst, angst, angst, angst, angst (Potter Puppet Pals reference- as am I too suffering from Post Potter depression. IT CAN'T BE OVER! ! ! There's gotta be another series! ! !) Oh, nd as you can see from what you will soon read- I want my fic to be accurate to the timeline of 1993. So the types of cars, artists and their songs, and all is 90's stuff._

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><p><span>5. Lonely Girl in the City<span>

The honest impression from this Shana girl in Joey's eyes seemed a tad too difficult and early to tell exactly, as she was not one to jump ahead and assume. After all, the quote itself makes an ass out of you and me. But from Shana's looks, she seemed like a brightly girl, high and proud about her ethnics and being a city-girl, quite the charm. Hopefully a good kid having grown up in a good nieghborhood to Joey's personal hopes, since the bad parts of the city made her nervous. A fellow reporter a few years back when she first started the jump went to cover over a hostage situation down in a nasty part of Manhattan- and ended up with four bullets in the chest in a body bag. Even at the times when she had been desperate for a story did she never find herself completely willing to go as far as to plaes like those.

Following Shana past through the crowd, somehow finding a bit more difficult time to slip through while Shana groved her way through with almost a natural flexibility, Joey met her at the end by a nearby alternative parking lot on the sidewalk. Not far to the right was Joey's own car, but glancing over she noticed Shana didn't seem to be heading to any car in particular.

"Hey- wait up!" Joey called out, raising her right hand as she chased after and gently grasped Shana's shoulder. Turning around to face the reporter, Shana looked with a face of slight concern.

"Yeah?" was all she simply said while Joey merely continued to glance around and about the area for another quick second. Joey slowly let down her hand off of Shana's shoulder, swallowing lightly while the presumably African American woman crossed her arms and waited.

"You said you had something to show me?" Joey questioned, as Shana's mouth formed an 'o' in remembrance and smiled warmly, nodding.

"Right, riiight. Sorry, forgot. I was just headin' back to my place, why don't you just go get your car and follow me?" she explained.

"Um, pardon me for asking but...where is your car anyways?" Joey asked as polite sounding as possible without sounding like a 'snoop' the official term nickname meant in offense to those stereotypical about reporters. And usually most reporters were snoops, but Joey knew her borderlines to respective curiosity and inavading privacy.

Besides, Shana didn't seem disturbed or offended as she made a light chuckle.

"Um...well honestly it's not here. I just walked from here, my place ain't that far from here. Sides, I don't even have a car. I got me a damn fine ride." she winked, though Joey honestly couldn't understand what she was referring, though guessed perhaps most likely a motorcycle. Strange, Shana seemed a bit petite and too friendly to be someone who rides around a motorcycle in a leather styled appearance, with tatoos and a cold pout. Though that was the basic idea to most what a biker, and perhaps it wasn't even a motorcycle.

"Well, would like a ride though? I mean, it still seems like you've got a bit of a walk ahead of you." Joey offered kindly. Shana seemed hesitant, but after a few minutes of debate she nodded quickly and energetically. Enrgetic- not quite the feeling Joey was having right now as of her current exhausted present state, yet wouldn't let that get the best of her as she lead the way to her car, a simple 1992 Toyota Camry. Catching a brief glance of Mark as he started his way to leave, Joey made a friendly wave of goodbye to him as the two women got into the car.

"Seriously, thanks Joey. You don't really have to do this-"

"Oh no. It's no trouble." Joey interjected, insisting Shana's guilt was for nothing. Hands firmly on the wheel, there a mental wave sent throughout Joey's mind to keep wide awake and full attention on the road, aswell as Shana here. Just to at least be able to have an official full view on Miss. Harley's character and, hopefully, wasn't up to something troublesome. Though the light brown haired reporter had faith and wanted to believe all was fine.

"So uh..where are you from Shana?" Joey questioned after two minutes of pure, basic silence. Joey had forgotten to turn the radio on, so there wasn't even any music playing to preoccupy the time. Shana must've been distracted the moment, staring blankly out the window for the city view when Joey briefly turned her head over, catching Shana's attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Right uh- I've been from around here, the big ol N.Y.C all my life to be honest. Well, not all my life. I just mean, whenever I stay for more than a month at a place, it's always been here in New York- always in the heart of the city itself." she answered, a bit hastily though casually.

"Well...except not counting Vegas. Don't tell!" Shana giggled, pressing a slim finger to her lips and winking. Joey laughed, though had honestly never been to Las Vegas before, or honestly why the place was so troublesome or with a reputation of problems arising after parties. She could, however, recall Mark talking about plans to travel to Las Vegas after his twenty-firsty birthday and him offering her a plane ticket and invite.

"What about you Joey? You don't honestly seem like some kind of a typical city gal." the woman with a red dyed bang asked.

"Well...I'm rather from upstate New York. Well, I was born there. After my father died in Vietnam War when I was born, my mother moved us both down to the city for her to search for a job. And since then , I decided to pursue a career as a reporter- wel, just not quite a _real_ reporter." Joey bitterly mumbled the last part. If she wanted to be honesty, she would've added in her sentence that that was all the basically summarize her life so far.

_'Unless you'd care to whip up the tale of how you fought against Hell and it's demons and single handedly, with the assistance of a handsome ghost, sent them back to Hell.' _her self conscious teased, though Joey's eyes widened at the sentence of 'handsome ghost'. What? Handsome, since when had her mind come to think of that? But before she had time to question to herself, Shana's face was mixture of the obvious sympathy for the mentioning of her deceased father.

"Oh wow. Joey I'm so sorry." she said sfotly, the mood of it all turning a bit awkward. Joey had heard this told to her many, many times. Shana's way of saying wasn't much of an exception to the others.

"I know...I mean it's fine. Honestly." Joey insisted warmly in her reply. After an awkward pause seemingly set in between the two, like a rough patch of ice, Shana decided to break it.

"Hey Joey, you mind turning on the radio?" she asked eagerly and kindly, in a curious manner.

"Wha-...oh yeah. Sure." Joey said, with a simple press of the button, already on a station from earlier before, was whatever that station was was in the middle of playing a song.

_You're a rebel now_

_Don't give a damn_

"Ooooooh! I know this song!" Shana squeed happily, swaying her shoulders and shaking slightly in a manner of somewhat dancing while sitting down. Joey admittedly liked the beat, though the artist itself was a familiar artist voice, though couldn't quite recall. Madonna? Nope, no way. Joey wasn't much of a music person anyways, but perhaps it would become more familiar to the song.

Shana's bouncing about, dancing siilly(as she was aware her dancing was silly) as Joey glanced over was enough to crack a smile, whilst Shana pointed a finger in the direction in which to turn to get to her place, while mouthing the song.

_Always carrying on_

_With the game_

_I'm tryin' to tell ya boy_

_It's a mistake_

_You won't realize _

_Until it's too late_

_Don't understand why you_

_Insist on living such a dangerous life_

_Time after time you stay away_

_And I just know that you're telling me lies_

_Black Cat Nine Lives_

_Short Days, Long Nights_

_Living on the edge, not afraid to die_

_Heart beats real slow_

_But not for long_

_Better watch your step_

_Or you're gonna die_

"Is this Janet Jackson?" Joey asked, rather loudly over the top of the music in which was belting out loudly in between the mix of the guitar and chorus. Shana hadn't quite heard what she said, but stopped dancing as she turned down the volume to barely audible.

"Sorry what? Yeah, this Janet. You like?" Shana grinned.

"Eh, I'm not much of a music person. But her voice is nice, and I like this beat. What's this song called anyways?" Joey asked, slightly humilated as she had guessed possibly something with either 'Black Cat' or 'Nine Lives' and not wanting to look oblivious.

"My theme song, sugar. Black Cat. Sometimes when I ride with the boys I turn this baby up to full volume. My favorite compact disk in the world that ain't died yet from how many times I've kinda replayed often." came the sassy reply, as Joey sniggered at that joke. She looked around to the nearby building in front of her, a brick building in basic good condition- though nothng like an outstanding five star suite.

"Is this it?" Joey asked curiosly, as Shana nodded, taking off her seatblet and getting out of her car seat.

"Yup, this is the place. The closest thing to home." she said, while Joey quickly turned off the car and followed to the front main door.

* * *

><p>Joey could see the details better to the place, and it honestly stood the borderline of good and bad. Good for it's good condition, and rather the style of the building itself was quite beautiful. Though there was grafitti of offensive insults on the sides, some stained windows at certain floors of what looked to be ash as though a fire had occurred years before, with curtains stained a slight foul stench that made Joey wrinkle her nose.<p>

"Piece of shit, isn't it?" Shana questioned jokingly, though almost as though able to have read Joey's mind rather her curious and inspecting face for that matter, at the heat in Joey's cheeks light up brightly in embarassment.

"No! No, not at all! It's overall pretty nice actually." she spoke the honest truth. Joey could tell Shana didn't seem to buy that as she arched a brow and mumbled a 'Mhhm?'.

"Nah, it's fine Joey. The place is a rot wreck. There's been two fires that happened here, and there's rumors someone got jumped and stabbed to death right here in this parking lot. Tellin' ya, don't ever bring yo kids here." Shana informed, sighing slightly. Joey felt her eyebrows rise high, gulping at the idea of what if her living apartment had a history of possible murders and arsons. Definetely he easiest answer would be to quickly move out.

Turning her back for a brief moment, Joey glanced around at the place, the other nearby buildings suddenly seeming with a dark appearance of a shadow casting over.

_'More friends...come to play with you Joey.'_

Joey felt herself frozen in fear, a cold sweat forming at her forehead, fingers twitching and trembling. Suddenly the place seemed completely unfamiliar and cast in a trance of darkness. Foolish as it sounded, it was the only honest truth to describe. Her mind and common sense screamed to run, as she swore in her ears she felt the piercing movements of one of...of.._them _sneaking up on her from behind, lunging forward to grab her in the horrors of torture-

"Joey?" came the replied voice of a curious Shana, obviously meaning no harm. But Joey herself jumped as if she probably thought she was a mugger, and Shana stumbled back a bit.

Joey gasped, her heart beat pounding against her like a luod, thumping hammer as she tried to relaxen, slowly turning over to instantly recognize Shana.

"Sorry...didn't mean to scare ya with my lil horror story." Shana apoogized, a light sarcasm implied somewhere in the joke to it. And though Joey didn't quite laugh, she couldn't honestly blame for Shana's comment. She was acting quite on the edge and tense today. The spilled coffee, Mark tapping on her car window, and now this?

_'It's because I'm so tired probably.' _she sighed to herself while Shana waited for a response.

"You didn't scare me Shana I'm just..." Joey trailed off, unsure how to finish.

_'It just so happens today is the one year anniversary in reminder of how demons had walked the Earth, murdered many people inside a popular club, and turned five innocent people into mutilated sidekicks to his little army. Did I forgot to add the perilcious dreams and kind ghosts included?' _was the honet, sarcastic remark. Though of course, quite a skeptical scare she'd give to the poor city girl, as well as how that would be impossibe for her to believe. So of course, Joey didn't say that.

"..Just not having a good day really. That's all." she decided to simply finish.

"Nah, I feel ya Joey. I..I'm not having the best type of anniversary kind of day myself." Shana said, though loudly for the first part. The other sentence was rather meant to be mumbled to herself, though Joey had caught on to it and was, ofcourse, automatically curious. Wondering if perhaps somehow she meant like, the same idea of an 'anniversary' Joey herself was having.

_'Could she have been there? At the club? Or chased in the streets?' _the reporter wondered to herself silently, but decided to wait before asking such questions as she headed inside.

* * *

><p>The main floor of the apartments itself was semi-decent, somewhat with the feeling this was a place filled with dirty secrets poorly covered up. From outside, Joey could suddenly hear the nioses of faint barking of two roaring dogs- obviously a menace to one another and foreign screams and cusses from other people, whether encouraging their dogs or something completely different. Typical loud city folks, but there was a bit of an eerie effect to it as Joey trutted alongside Shana.<p>

Shana couldn't honestly understand what there was to be so fearful of. Then again, perhaps Joey was some kind of high class city-girl, not used to the lower areas around the city. There seemed something...jumpy about the reporter. Easily startled when her back was turned, and rather in a constant distracted gaze, though that one was understandable for Shana.

She hoped they could be somewhat good friends while assisting through her story, but Shana felt as though Joey knew..._more. _Things others never listened to, were never told of, or were never meant to be told. With how startled Joey was, it was almost as though she had witnessed murder and everytime someone caught her from behind, she expected it to be that very same killer after her.

Sure the city wasn't always a breathtaking place to live in, nd neither as cheap as it used to be from what she remembered as a young child- but it had some good effects to it as well. It was the small rewards that would count for her, and the place, despite the whispered rumors and ugly gang past from long ago, Shana saw nothing to worry about.

She noticed the greeter, Samuel 'Sam' Bonds, a dark skinned, grey haired man who appeared to be in his sixties when he was actually in his early fifties, shoot Joey a rather cold look and the slightest hear of a snarl. Shana narrowed her hazel eyes, made a gesture for Joey to wait where she was, and approached Sam calmly, with an arched brow and tapping foot.

"Sam?" she simply said in a dry tone.

"Evenin' Shana." he winked, suddenly turning warm for her.

Ah Sam was not one to get along with typical strangers, and it was not the easiest to get on his side. But Sam had met Shana many years earlier, when her mother had hired him several times to babysit her while job searching. Sam had otherwise been warm and friendly, but in his previous years having lived a difficult life as a gang member, battled his own harsh demons of drug addictions, and lost the lives of his wife and young son from a brutal car accident, all these embittered him permanently. And the scars certainly went deep.

"Try to lighten up a little bit? You're scarin' my poor friend here, and she isn't one to come down to our world here." Shana sighed, staring down at the old man.

Sam hoarsely chuckled, a rather creepy sound to hear due to the damages of drug addiction in the years before, he was considerably lucky not to have had his throat removed. Though he had gambled with his life against that once.

"Ah, so she ain't from the ghetto, eh? Poor blondie babe looks like lil ol' Bambo there startled an' all." Sam remarked about Joey in a simple comment, something implied as slightly offensive, though otherwise was a joke. Though Shana disliked it when Sam joked that she and him were both from the ghetto. She hadn't honestly thought of herself coming from the ghetto, then again, her lifestyle wasn't necessarily something of an average middle class life.

"Sam you know I don't like none of them damn ghetto jokes. Just, please, for me try to lighten up a bit?" she pleaded in a soft whisper, noticing that Joey had turned her head over curiously to their conversation. Sam leaned in to Shana, so she could hear him as he nodded.

"Alright sweet baby gurl, only cos you startin' really look like yo momma there. And you knew I always _liked_ yo momma alot. Whoo he!" he cackled in his inappropriate joke, true that he had indeed been heavily attracted to Shana's mother.

Shaking her head, Shana smiled warmly and mouthed a thanks as she guided Joey along to the fourth floor as to where her apartment was at from the staircase, since the elevator had signed place in front clearly stating '**OUT OF ORDER'.**

"So...Shana How long have you lived here exactly, at this place?" Joey asked in between slight pants as she and Shana seemed to hurry up the stairs at a good pace.

"This is the original building I was raised at. We had our own house at one point, but we quickly lost it after my father walked outta my life. Sam, he was my babysitter, and he really loved my mother a lot. So, he let us back here. I only came back here about way early last year, like actually probably late 91." Shana explained. Stopping for a brief breath, she huffed in a remark about the 'damn stairs', before finally reaching what was the fourth floor, and towards the simple worn down coating of red painted door marked room 4E- Shana's apartment.

"So...anything you gotta expect about my place?" Shana asked curiously.

For a moment for Joey, it almost seemed like they were two friends hanging out together, eagerly viewing one another's houses. But this wasn't, as Joey knew she had to focus back on the story without seeming rude and in a hurry. Besides, why hurry? The more time taken the less of a chance having to encounter Ryan. Originally it had been Brad who would make the sexist and picky remarks in the year before, but was suddenly fired in rumors for sexually harassing another reporter. Ryan was replaced instead, but did he turn out to be the true spawn of the devil for how spiteful and despicable he was.

As long as he kept his hands to himself though, (and with her pepper spray kept nice and tightly somewhere in her pocket) Joey felt otherwise fine with that situation. But Ryan overall just made Joey naturally furious thinking about him and the stress he would typically bring on her.

Hearing a sound 'click' and the noise of Shana unlocking the door, she opened it abruptly, making a hand gesture and warm smile to invite Joey in. Joey herself took a deep breath before stepping inside at what was honestly a lovely, unique room.

There was something about it styled to be 'city-like' the gray brick wall for one side in the living room, where a tan wood floorboard was placed, and simple white furniture of two couches, a coffee table, and an average sized television. But upon the gray brick wall were two large paintings hung, one made of rather creative, simple yet somehow in a pattern strokes of the primary colors. While the other was a re-done picture of the infamous _Marilyn Monroe _by Andy Warhol, though with some messy details that made it evident this was redone. In front of her, straight ahead not a wall but a whole view from a large window similar to her own apartment.

The kitchen had a red brick wall, and rather steel appliances, though a bit cheap looking in that matter, again with several types of artwork, and artwork equipment scattered about. Joey figured somewhere in the nearby back was the bedroom and bathroom, but it didn't matter.

"It's...beautiful. And the artwork is...wow." Joey breathed, honestly amazed.

"Took me a while to fix it up, the paintings...well...Miss. Monroe over there was bought at a high school artwork sale place. But the other one there was myself. Actually, most of these are done by me." Shana grinned proudly, though her cheeks were flushing from the flatter.

"I didn't know you had such talent Shana." Joey remarked, wide eyed in a bit excitment, having then forgotten the story.

"Eh...I sell most of these though. A girl's gotta make some livin' ya know. I mean, everyone thinks that cos I've got a motorcycle out in the back I'm some junkie bike gang member screwing around on drugs." Shana pouted her lips and rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed by the stereotypical assumptions made. Joey hung her head low for a moment, both in shame and for how her neck had begun to feel rather stiff for that matter due to the restless night previously.

"Joey? Is somethin' the matter?" Shana asked, in concern as she approached her. Joey snapped her head up, blinking her eyes once or twice before clearing her throat.

"Shana look. I don't want to sound rude, but you said you had something to show. Would you mind.."

"Oh yeah. Sure. Totally. Why don't you just uh...make yourself comfortable. Uh, yeah. My place may look fancy but it honestly doesn't have much. Just uh, you can go sit over in the living room and call if ya want anything while I go get it." Shana said, her hands gesturing about a bit awkwardly as she rushed off.

Joey exhaled a breath deeply, licking her dry lips and smiling slightly for a brief second. She didn't want to seem like a rude guest but simply helping herself to plopping down on her couch, but didn't want to upset Shana and her hospitality. So, she slowly made her way to the white couch (taking twice to make certain there were no dirt stains on her that would spread on the couch) and sat straight upright.

She could hear the shufflings and noises of Shana rummaging through, as well as the creative potty mouth Shana had as some things either fell or fell on top of her as she muttered cuss words, though not meant for them to be loud.

Joey in the meanwhile, shifted in her seat a bit awkwardly before noticing the face down frame on the coffee table, as if accidentally knocked over. Joey reached for it to gently bring it back up, surprised it wasn't shattered or damaged for the luck of it, and- well. She felt the urge to look over, turning over to the sight of the photograph.

A happy looking couple, obviously in love from the meer sight of their eyes, let alone the fact they were in each others arms and smiling brightly while whoever had taken the picture photographed them. The woman was Shana of course, slightly younger than what was now, and the man seemed...eerie familiar. Shoulder length dark brown eyes, bushy dark eyebrows, dusty brown eyes, fair skin, all familiar in a person she just _must've _seen before.

Racking through her memories, Joey couldn't help but make a coy smile at how adorable it was. There was an obvious lipstain on this boy's cheek, while Shana wore a lopsided birthday hat- obviously haivng gone to celebrate her- twenty second (as she had squinted was able to find in the background a possible friend of Shana cutting a simple cake with blown out number candles that said '22') birthday.

"Hey Joey I- oh." Shana had said, stopping in her place as she had noticed the reporter looking at the picture frame.

Joey blushed, realizing what she had done and feeling immediate guilt for going through Shana's personal items and possibly hurting her feelings as well, as her fingers gently gripped on the frame to balance it gently back on the table.

"Shana, oh Shana...I am so, so sorry. Look I didn't mean to-"

"No, no Joey. It's...it's fine." Shana interrupted, with a slight smile, though it hadn't hidden the sudden hurt pain forming in her eyes.

"I really hate to ask since really look like a snooping bitch but- who is this guy?" Joey attempted to ask, though felt as though she should stop.

"No, no. Not at all, you're- you're not a snooping bitch Joey. He...he's- his name is Jimmy Hammerstein. He's my fiancé- or sorta. I...Joey, you're reporter interested in stories, right?" Shana quickly drawed softly. Joey nodded her head, but bit her lip.

"Shana if this hurts you to say just say so. It's wrong of me to even ask so you don't-"

"Well boy have I got a story for you. Call it Lonely Girl in the City and why the world is a bitch. Where to begin?..." Shana began, sighing softly and sadly.

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think? Slow and riducously boring, I know. I know this is so boring. I hate myself for there being no action at all. I should probably official declare to you that this story is REALLY slow pacing probably. It'll be just a little longer before we get to the actual Cenobites, blood and gore, or the official Jelly. Though the next chapter may be the start of an M rating to adult themes and Shana's heartbreaking story. Bring tissues!<strong>


	6. Shana's Story Part 1

_**Author's Note: **__BRING TISSUES PEOPLE! LOL,or at least I hope you need them. I wanted to make Shana's past story extremely, uberly, over the top heartbreaking and sad for you all. Let's hope I can achieve that. Warning: This is the start of the reasons why this is change to an M due to violence, language, a not quite explicit rape scene, and other adult themes._

* * *

><p><span>6. Shana's Story Part 1<span>

Shana sighed, her lips pursing together for brief paused moment or so before finally speaking again.

"Well...I honestly don't know where to begin." she murmured lowly, as Joey bolted out of her seat slowly, placing a hand comfortably on Shana's shoulders, and which when the city girl looked up to face the understanding eyes of Joey, Shana took Joey's hands, pulled it off of her gently and backed away slightly.

"Joey look I-"

"No. It's okay, really. You shouldn't have to tell if what your fiancé did to you was hor-"

"Oh no! God no! He'd never- I mean, he never! Oh Joey I didn't mean to have it implied as that!" Shana gasped, wide eyed at almost gaping shock. Joey felt wrong for saying that, foolish in fact, since the photograph of them depicted them happily together. Then again, every abusive relationship is usually revealed behind closed doors, as Joey had learned when interviewing a victim of an abusive relationship, in respect even now dared not to even think of the poor, scarred and brutally beaten woman.

"Look it was never anything..abusive or whatever. Oh no, not at al. Joey...it was so damn perfect. Like, the love story Romeo and Juliet would slit other people's throats for to have." Shana implied, though shrugged, obviously describing it a tad too far in the extreme.

"Sorry if that sounds crazy." she flushed, her cheeks redenned like her red bang.

"Shana, when I was young my mother told me people do crazy things and say crazy things when they're in love. Hell, they'd even go as far as to do crazy- and I don't mean borderline physcopathic crazy- things for the one they love." Joey grinned, remembering those memories of when she had been a curious child to love. How she sat on her mother's lap and would tell her the true love story as to how she and her father met, ofcourse excluding the actual ending, but left it more or less told as something out of a _Disney _love story with a prince and princess.

"Alright then. Joey...you promise not to actually, ya know, tell any of your reporters there my story. Right?" Shana tensely asked, obviously uncomfortable with her story soon to be spoken. Before Joey could even open her mouth to speak, Shana hung her head low and shook her head.

"Look Joey, I got scars that are ugly and deep. So you gotta SWEAR not to say nuthin'." she said suddenly, almost in bitter anger. Joey glanced down and noticed that Shana had curled her fists suddenly, though not in obviously meaning she was actually going to hit her- right?

"Joey?" Shana demanded for an answer, though managed to keep her tone on something of a basic level to casual.

Joey immediately nodded. "Oh of course Shana. I promise no one will hear a word outside this room." she solenly swore, hand over heart, with no such teasing wink or chuckle like how Sam would keep promises to Shana.

After a few moments, with Shana still in debate as to whether or not to trust her, back turned and pacing around a bit with her hands locked behind, she stopped dead in her tracks and sighed. Turning over to face, her face cringed for a moment as though to hold back tears before beginning.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"I was born into a semi-normal family. My parents...they weren't typically the mot in-love and happiest people in the world. They'd have there arguments and such, though never to my face. And I never knew what they was about, and still don't know. Momma never told me even before she overdosed herself to death..."<strong>_she paused, the memories forcing back into her eyes and relived.

_Her tired father arriving home from work, while she, then four or five, threw his arms around him for a happy hug, the otherwise seemingly cheerful family together. She laying bed whilst he read her a classical bedtime story with his deep, baritone, soothing voice that put her sleep in the alternative to her mother's beautiful lullaby voice._

_**"But when I was six...something snapped in my Daddy." **_Shana struggled to say that very sentence, resisiting the feel for her voice to crack at the tearful memories.

_A little girl, clutching her teddy bear and staring wide eyed in panic at the moon, restless and unable to sleep. For one, it was the rain and the little droplets of it pounding against the window in a tapping noise, but that didn't even take the cake. even Their roars in their arguments getting louder, more violent, and Shana jumped startled at the very noise of something shattering, a glass frame or vase perhaps?_

_Her shaky little legs swung out of bed, slipping down and leaving behind her only hugging source of comfort at the moment, her bear, to go into the always there arms of her father. This had happened many times before. They would argue, she would cry and run straight into her father's arms and plead they stop, and they seemed to be happy again._

_Because they had always been in her young eyes a picture perfect family, but oh how young and foolish she was to believe the smiles._

_Why? Why, as her precious Daddy, who was half of her entire world, so upset? Not in tears but- angry. Did he or Mommy say something bad? Whenever she'd say something bad, Shana would sit in time-out. But this didn't look anything like time-out oh no, his bags were packed. Where was he going?_

_"Daddy.." the small girl, four year old Shaan murmured lowly, noticing her mother had turned over in notice. Her mother was so sad, eyes red and tears spilling, hand over her mouth, and Shaan could hear the whimpers her mother fought so desperately to hide. Her father had turned, but he hadn't stopped as he had already opened the door- revealing the outside to be dark, and pouring rain even harder._

_Shana quickly ran over to her father, in search of a hug but felt two large hands nudge her away, holding her firmly to her feet. One of the large, rough hands of her father carressing her cheek slightly, but in a way that of no such emotion. Shana's two small hands barely even covered her father's one hand alone, grasping on to it as it left her shoulder._

_"No. No. Daddy no! Daddy! Where awe you goin' Daddy?" she asked, her heart pounding, a feel to suddenly but indeed very nervous and worried._

_She could hear her mother snap, release a shriek and whimper before sobbing again. Tears piling up in her own eyes as well, Shana just simply couldn't understand what was going on. Why was her Daddy leaving? Why was Mommy so upset?_

_Why was their family so broken and unperfect?_

_The big question of all was why it was suddenly so hard to grasp onto her father's hand, as it slipped away from her grasp slowly but at the pace in which her sweaty, small hands tiredly felt to resist the urge of giving up. It washopeless, but she couldn't, as he slowly turned his head to her for a final time._

_'Mm...chu probably goin' turn out jest like ya momma, but chu got yo daddy's warm eyes.' Shana recalled a friend of her mother comment. But what warm eyes? Daddy's eyes were so...cold. It was like he didn't want her. Did she do something wrong? Was she not a good girl?_

_He hadn't even mouthed goodbye, and rather hastily slapped his hand slowly away her two hands, simply exiting in a manner far more cold than Rhett had done to Scarlett in __Gone with the Wind__, a movie she had stayed up to watch with her parents once._

_And never once did he look back._

* * *

><p>Joey remained completely silent for a full manner of about ten minutes or so, unable ot think of anything to say in her sympathy to Shana, whom had cast her gaze towards the view of the city from her nearby window. Hands behind her back and locked, Shana sighed.<p>

"Well?" she asked, as if having been waiting for a response during the entire period of silence. Joey jumped, startled as she raised an eyebrow high in curiosity.

"Oh? I..I'm sorry. I mean, with both. I didn't know that and...I didn't know what to honestly say." Joey quickled apologized as Shana turned her back, the slightest of a smile twitching on the corner of her lips, but it never even came to be as she nodded.

"No, no, it's my fault for acting so rude. It's just, I figured there'd be some sort of sappy sympathy like all dem other folks I've told my story. You know it's just like- the sympathy only seems to make the pain return." Shana sighed, eyes flickering about from the floor to Joey, who's eyes fixed with an understanding.

"I uderstand completely Shana, after all, I- I never knew my father either. And I always wondered what kind of a father he'd be. My mother always said he would've been a great father to me...just out of all the options I thought of- I never tohught of my father walking out of me and my mother's life before." Joey's voice trailed, the very sound to it low. Shana unlocked her hands from her back, and then rubbed her arms as she slowly made her way to the opposite couch of Joey.

"Hard to believe this Joey but...from where I come from, it's pretty common for one parent or both to walk out of their kid's life. It's fucked up- but true. And it really is just the shit cream on top of life, ain't it? I used to have a heck of a lotta good booksmarts. I mean, I knew kids who didn't have a chance, and were proud of that fact as well. The teachers knew, yet they always tried. With me- they said they saw potential in me. But in the world, to me eyes, and frm those I was told by, you needed street smarts to survive. Not book smarts, so I traded those all away. Seemed to pay off fair I guess." Shana shrugged, though she obviously didn't feel comfortable with exactly saying what was implied, she had dropped out of school. Joey decided to respect that and not question further on that subject.

"But...I didn't make it into the world so easy though. You see I..." Shana began to say, as noticable her lip trembled, tempted to cry. Personally for Shana, there was a weakening, queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Welling up inside, as these memories added in to floating through her eyes yet again.

_'Why don't you do a little twirl for me sweetie?' __**his **_voice hissed in her mind, along with the rest of them. Every single one of them, and their hungry demands, cruel requests, haunting touch- the painful bad touch that were scars in some places.

_'Without me..you're nothing.'_

_'Shana...I promise you're safe. Nobody will hurt you, alright?' _then came the one soothing voice she longed to hear for the longest time, feeling dylusional for even believing it could possibly be him, but it seemed to me the very voice echoing through her mind. In the car...on that rainy night, the spilled tears, hushes and assurance, _oh God! _It all then came back straight through in a way with true emotion, and not how she had been seemingy strong enough to easily open to Joey. No, now did it really hit her hard like a football pummel.

It took her five seconds to realize her knees had buckled weakly, and she collapsed to the ground, hands burying her face as Joey quickly ran to her side.

"I sold myself!" she sobbed. "I sold myself. I mean, I ain't no prostitute but...but what could I do? ! I was seventeen an the school never gonna let me back in by then! It was too late Joey! I...I didn't know what to do. 'Kay?" she was hysterical, half or words spoken barely audible or considerable proper English. Oh, fuck it. The poor girl was a mess, and Joey didn't know what to do in any way to make actual comfort other than to remain silent and hold her. Wrapping her arms around Shana's back as she sobbed, with Joey at some points in between softly hushing her in assurance, as the city girl continued.

"I couldn't do anything..an it seemed like no one would even hear if I screamed. The sayin' goes bout people likin' it rough, or Joey they were rough. In not in the manner you'd enjoy. I just thought...I mean, as long as I count up my money it'd be enough to get out of that Hell hole.." Shana's heaved slowly, suddenly overcome with a feeling that made her very tired, wanting to go rest her eyes and fall asleep in Joey's arms or perhaps one of the nearby couches.

"Sh...sh..hush...Shana it- it's okay." Joey struggled to say in between as Shaan calmed, stroking her black hair, and brushing away her red bang that stood in front and annoyingly covered her right eye, as Shana made the slightest nod, in gesture to a gracious thank you. Licking her cracked lips, and wiping her hot, salty tears that had spilled down quickly past her face, small puddles formed on her shirt by the cleavage of her simple but small white T-shirt. Rising to her feet slowly, she felt Joey's arms release her from the hug slowly, as Shana quickly plopped back down on the couch, sighing in thought.

"I raised more than enough money...bought my own ride and left this damn town. When I came back..early last year, I figured I'd go celebrate with some of my friends...and..apparently there was this local club in town. T- The Boiler Room.."Shana had trailed, whilst Joey raised both her eyebrows in surprise.

_'My God...she knows the club. Was she..?' _Joey, in icy fear for a minute, wondering where exactly the story was to trail off. Though to relieve herself, she knew that Shana had clearly stated that this was in the previous early year, not recently within the last year. Why so anxious though, over as to whether or not Shana was indeed aware of the massacre? It wasn't like that was a kept up secret tightly locked like some kind of conspiracy theory for Christ's sake. It had been all over the news for a good full week, pointless investigations gone cold quickly over the brutal murders.

It wasn't that. It was the damn _Box _that kept Joey quizzical and jumpy, worried despite the impossibility of it's return from the cement ground she had stuck it through.

Shana hadn't even noticed Joey seemingly wander off in thoughts, whilst she herself had stared straight forth towards her gray brick wall ahead until her vision grew tired of the sights and became slightly dizzy. Perhaps re-telling the story would release the pain? So far, it didn't seem to be working despite Joey's excellent cooperation.

Closng her eyes, Shana swore she could re-live the entire memory itself yet again as though a movie or the exact living moment to it being relived now.

* * *

><p><em>It felt nice to get out honestly in a place that was so familiar yet again, despite the large gaping difference of currently now of her return to when she had last been around New York City, as in officially staying, for now. Heh, she was just too damn focused on having at least a good time to herself and with the small group of small town gang bikers- not too troublesome, but by nightfall they were total, utter junkies. Except for one of them, a basic Bimbo blond named Karolyn (and yes with a K, as Karolyn herself had grudgingly told her of the common mistake countless people made when spelling it out or questioning). Though not a bright bulb, it was relief she was no junkie, and Karolyn had invited her for a fun time.<em>

_But the streets they crossed through on the way were eerie and hauntingly familiar, almost as though the assumably homeless were eyeing her dirtily from the view of the passenger seat window of the car Karolyn had driven her to._

_The place itself seemed...rowdy for a first impression. Rock music booming loudly, those dancing like a bunch of morons or so high off of whatever juice they shot themselves up with it was hilarious to watch. Parched for a good drink to knock her boots off out of boredom (It had been awhile since she had an honest drink; Considering motorcycle riding and drinking aren't a lovely combination.)._

_Meanwhile her friend Karolyn had been easily wooed by the club owner, playboy J.P. Munroe- whom Shana took no interest at- and disappeared upstairs to his bedroom upstairs._

_'Most likely fucking her.' she bitterly thought. Shana had heard all the stories of how he would use women for one night stands, and with that, not wanting to join the long, countless list of used women she made herself appear average and not in anything of skimpy clothes other than a half shirt worn under her baggy leather jacket._

_She most certainly did not long for or miss the attention she had brought for when selling herself those years ago anyways. To thank God for the very least at the moment, there hadn't been any unwanted but familiar faces that had spotted her. Or else there would be some ugly trouble. She wasn't interested in any one night stands, unlike those with the 'hungry eyes' around the place seemed to be for any unfortunate weak willed girl to give in. Quite a shame indeed. Though for her own luck, Shana so far managed to keep herself a managable, low profile. No exotic dancing, no heavy indused drinking (not quite yet- once the place turned it down a bit then she'd trust herself to let herself go nuts), and hadn't noticed anyone catching her or eyeing her in particular. Well, at that moment._

_But somehow, the local D.J to it caught her eye much to her displeasure of not wanting to get any hookups._

_To think, that all Shana had wanted was a drink...drinks rather._

_He had been unable to take his eyes off the very sight of her, her eye catching streak of red dyed bang most likely being how he spotted her, and he flushed when she noticed his stare. All she herself had been originally planning was simply passing by. But, there seemed to be a tug on her heart strings, despite how she had strongly insisted to herself never to hit off a relationship at a club. But before she could stop herself, she gave in. Quickly, she approached him boldly._

_"So, am I supposed to expect a catch phrase of 'come here often'?" she inquired, arching one of her eyebrows as she raised her voice to beat the loud, rock music for him to hear._

_He laughed, in a bit of relief she wasn't seemingly like one of those dim witted prostitutes that J.P. seemed to favor in due to their gullilblness._

_"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm a D.J.- not a Casanova." he assured with a playful wink as she rolled her eyes._

_"Then explain why you look like a love struck Romeo when you were lookin' at me?" she retorted, laughing as she noticed him then turn beet red at his cheeks._

* * *

><p>In the present moment, Shana had been explaining to Joey those very words, though not quite necessariy in the thought manner Shana had thought to herself during the situation alone. She hadn't mentioned the true details as to why she didn't want any sort of attention that night, simply remarking she just <em>'Wanted a drink or few and nothin more. No trouble, ya know?'<em>.

"That's how you two met?" Joey whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah, but we hadn't actually hit it off. Sure we..I think if I recall well we exchanged names, maybe a joke or two. But we went our seperate ways quickly- well at least I did. And during the whole time.." Shana stopped, chuckling lightly and airily as she closed her eyes and shook her head at the memories. "..Joey he couldn't keep his eyes off me the whole time. I'm tellin' ya, I think he was some kind of lost in lovestruck arrows Romeo like Cupid really got to him or somethin. I sometimes wondered that...that if I just ran up to kiss him, his eyes would turn straight into lil hearts- like on those kiddy cartoons."

Joey smiled at the joke, how warming the feeling must've been between the two. From Shana's perspective in the story told so far, it almost seemed as though it must've been love from the beginning. or somewhat on a corny level of two destinys meant to be, etc etc etc. Goodness did Joey normally despise soap opreas and their cliché loves, but this was one pure sweet.

Though there was a lingering feeling in Joey's stomach, as well as the hidden dark corner of Shana's hazel eyes, that there was a darkside to the seemingly somewhat happy (at the current moment) story, that the events of her father and brief prostitution were not the worst.

Her thoughts, more or less questions, were answered as Shana finally continued after a brief pause that on the curious suspense level for Joey felt like ages.

"..I had to go. It was gettin' late ya know. i mean, I'm normally a night owl- but I couldn't fool around in the city just yet. I still had to get re-used to the place..if that's even a word. But...anyways..unbeknown it had started to rain, well storm clouds gathering. So, I figured I'd take a walk route back to the apartment here instead of waiting for Karolyn."

_"In a way...I should've never done that Joey." _Shana's voice trembled suddenly.

"Why?" Joey asked, leaning in and moving by to Shana's side on her couch this time instead of sitting and shuffling her feet on the other one.

Shana's face cringed in pain for the quick second, hands curled together and tightening in a formed ball together. Squeezing her eyes shut, it was by then did Joey know for certain that this was obviously the worst now.

* * *

><p><em>The chilling wind gave it a somewhat eerie chill, as if something seen out of those thriller slasher films Shana always laughed at in mock for their corny predictable scenes. But now, who's laughing now?<em>

_The wind had grown stronger over the growing minutes, knocking over several nearby trash bins from the alleyway across the street pavement she had been walking, and hearing the sudden slowing roar of a car. _

_For a moment, Shana considered in her options it was Karolyn's car- a blue...erm...van? She couldn't quite recall (nor did Shana car much for cars anyways, it was always motorcycles), but turned slowly to find a dark SUV instead, with chip marks all on the hood and a tricked out licence in obviously fake gemstones._

_Shana had quickly turned her back when realizing it was nothing but a passing car, and continued on her way with seemingly no trouble. But the roar of the slow moving engines started to turn off quickly and suddenly, her enlarged shadow caused from the headlights of behind turned off, and a man hustling stumbling then grasped her shoulders. Forcing her to turn around, her right fist immediately met to his face smack hard. He stumbled, the sound of 'crack' easily heard as he growled and grabbed his nose._

_"BITCH!" he screamed, and by then did Shana recognize it was indeed one of those unwanted familiar faces- Wesley Fay- her...her former 'boss', rather pimp for that matter who had briefly owned her before she took off. Though without a word to her, and he seemed in the mood for a longing welcome back._

_Oh how hard she put up a fight. She really did honestly try, breaking his nose until it was nothing more than a bloodied pulp, scratching and kicking- desperate to fight back as his arms roughly squeezed around her abdomen, as if in a hemliech lock, as she gasped. It felt like as though he were crushing her ribs, as she gasped,trying to jump free and scream, as through her squirming was he able to hold her waistline- rather crush- while the other hand smacked down, gagging her mouth. She attempted to spin on her feet, to object, to fight even at the last minute._

_He threw her down, pinned her, obviously hoping that her head banging first against the ground would've knocked her out cold. It hadn't worked, but her head throbbed, the slimy, liquid warmth of blood slowing oozing from an insant cut somewhere on the back of her head, the rocky texture of the pavement crushing against it, her hair itself knotted as she turned her head away, resisting him. Yet he continued without any sight of giving up, slamming her fists to the ground, feeling the sharp, rough pavement dig into her skin, as he dragged her then by her jacket as he scrambled to his feet, her skin scraping and feeling as though it were burning from the pain. The slick, icy rain wasn't helping much as it seemed to only pour down upon her face harder, stinging in the mixed sensational feeling of burning hot and deathly cold._

_She lashed out, trying to kick high. Shana figured she had hit him udging from his yelp of a groan, and tried to quickly rise to her feet, stumbling in her balance with her dizzying vision. She tried to run to her feet, feeling so sickened and earful- unable to think straight. She seemed to be ahead, but must've slowed for just the slightest second enough for him to catch up, yank her hair and tear out a few strings of it harshly as well, dragging her by her feet towards his car._

_She knew her heels of her shoes skidded against the pavement, her screams were muffled, and she knew it was late. Nobody was up and around, and she knew- from the chuckling laughter in his cruel mock to her- his very foul stenched breath he was intoxicated. And infuriated over her absence from all these years, his angered fueled more with the sight of her return. She knew he wanted to take his anger all out on her completely, no matter how much of the 'hassle' to him it was._

_She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped it would be quick, as he had forcibly threw her in the backseat of his SUV, sniggering under his breath as he slammed the car door. The tight, cramped space was uncomfortable for her legs, bent to have somewhat space as she tried to get up. Eyes watering, right hand hanging freely off from the seat as it twitched to bend a fist slightly, her whole body nearly dripping wet from the rain, voice hoarse and squeaky as she made slight moans and gasps in pain, hearing him shuffle through and about. Wondering whether or not Wesley had plans on making this quick or not._

_Either or, she knew she had to seize the time now. She was scared. Sitting up straight, she rubbed her head briefly as she attempted to open the door, with no such luck as at the exact moment she had approached the door, he had appeared by the window, eyebrows furrowing angrily and eyes narrowing dangerously. As soon as her hands backed away did his whisk open the car door, jumping through and slamming it as he banged her head against the seat down, pinning her down. He chuckled as she tried to bit down on her tongue, trying not to scream to satisfy him._

_But he grabbed ahold of the seat belt, outstretching it and then implying the threat as he mockingly placed it around her neck, slurpily chuckling as he playfully tugged it against her neck. Shana stared up wide eyed, fearfully._

_His lips brushed against her neck, his freezing cold lips inflaming her body into goosepimples instantly- and not in the matter of aroused. Oh not at all- she was horrified, unable to find the voice to scream as he grew warily and impatient, tearing and ripping her clothes off. Tossing her leather jacket carelessly aside to the front seat as he smacked her, the very feeling of when his hand connected to her cheek. The stinging feeling worse than the harsh little droplets of rain._

_Oh God...she had begged so fearfully, heaving sobs in her chest as she prayed so desperately for it to be over soon. But there was no quick feeling at all, oh no. Wesley knew how to push everyone's buttons in his cold mock, having been the one infamously to say to her to give a 'little twirl' in the exposed lingerie she wore, when in 'trials' to see if she would be a favorable little pawn in his game. And he knew how to make things hurt- slowly._

_He was forcibly inside of her, grunting while she cried the tears that felt like were becoming her own blood, falling down her cheeks. It was a nightmare she felt forced to relive over and over again, never ending despite that being all she asked. And in between did he give a twinge of unwanted pain, a slap or so. Or he'd bite down too hard on her neck, feeling her bleed. She had tried to put up a little resistance, spitting in his face or trying to shove him off_

_The worst torture was his thrusting, oh he made it hurt. He knew it hurt her, which was his exact objection. Intoxicated and blurried of common sense ('Wesley had common sense? Since when did monsters have a mind?' would've been the thoughts she would have thought if she could think in between the pain), he seemed to still be a master of pain._

_And when his hunger was satisfied, when he was through with her and the obviously longed for slow painful revenge, there came a small beating. Her legs ached, she tried to arched her back as she hissed and moaned, crying so hard until she felt was though no tears were left to cry._

_He just chuckling in a low breath, like the monster normally do as he carressed her cheek, brushing away some of her hair and wiping away the hot sweat on her forehead._

_"Sh...baby baby. Don't cry..." he cooed in a haunting whisper, leaning intently to her ear, as all over her body bruised and ached._

_Mostly nude, with her shirt, jeans, panties, and jacket nowhere to be found, he gestured to what she simply wanted to do, and grabbed her panties and jacket, simply tossing at her as she reacted in a near startled jump from anything touching her body in pain. She got her clothes back on quickl despite the pain, hoping he'd give her more of her clothes, but did not. He obviously wanted a sick souvinier. For the final moments as she kept her eyes shut, he took a sniff at her hair and whatever scent he took pleasure in, his icy chuckle spreading those light goosepimples again as he then simply tossed her out of his van, watching as her body landed straight forth to pouring wet ground. The rain had increased, as he simply whispered 'Thanks for the night, ba- baby heh heh heh..' with a cackle._

_Her body was soaked and ached, blood still pooling or cracked and dried from the earlier injuries, blurried vision watching as the dark SUV drove off so simply while she struggled about._

_There was nowhere to run. No one to turn to. And so, she decided there would be no use for that matter anyways, as she brought her legs to chest and curled herself together, crying over the still lasting pain, hysterical in tears. Hoping, and praying she would die here from something, and honestly by then she didn't care whether it be slow or not. She supposed her soul alone already was slaughtered in that van__._

* * *

><p>"He- <em>Wesley<em> left me to die Joey...Left me to die all alone on dem streets. And God did I never ever want to die so much before until then..." Shana whispered, so lowly it was barely audible. Her hands were curled and laid together in her lap, head hung low and eyes frozen still in the fearful memories.

Joey herself held a hand across her mouth, hot tears forming and falling slowly, streaming down her cheeks. In her min over and over had she been thinking _'Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God' _almost in what felt like a panicked thought rather.

The utter silence seemed to take it's own toll, as if on it's own cue did it seem the birhgt sunny morning seemed to be dulling down. The sun itself hidden in midst of slowly forming gray clouds, though nothing more than what looked like thin whisps of gray clouds, not any sign of rain. But in the fitting mood of eerie silence to the awful story told.

It was rather surprising to find how strong she had been while telling every single explicit detail in manner, though Shana's voice was distant and hoarse. Obviously cracked to the temptation of crying, whilst trusting her own self for the briefest moment to not make a sound did Joey accidentally whimper loudly from her tearing. Shana turned to her, hazel eyes already slipping down tears.

"Joey...there's more." she whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my..*sniffles* it should get happier I hope. :'(<strong>


End file.
